Israel Zangwill

Unless I'm very much misled,
Chesterton's easier done than said.
I have not seen him, but his looks
I can imagine from his books.

I once drew Ibsen, looking bored
Across a deep Norwegian Fjord,
And very nearly every one
Mistook him for the midnight sun.

A's Albert Edward, well meaning but flighty,
Who invited King Arthur, the blameless and mighty,
To meet Alcibiades and Aphrodite.



B is for Bernhardt, who fails to awaken
Much feeling in Bismarck, Barabbas, and Bacon.



C is Columbus, who tries to explain
How to balance an egg--to the utter disdain
Of Confucius, Carlyle, Cleopatra, and Cain.



D's for Diogenes, Darwin, and Dante,
Who delight in the dance Of a Darling Bacchante.



E is for Edison, making believe
He's invented a clever contrivance for Eve,
Who complained that she never could laugh in he...

THIS is an Os-trich. See him stand:
His head is bur-ied in the sand.
It is not that he seeks for food,
Nor is he shy, nor is he rude;
But he is sen-si-tive, and shrinks
And hides his head when-e'er he thinks
How, on the Gains-bor-ough hat some day
Of some fine la-dy at the play,
His fea-thers may ob-struct the view
Of all the stage from me or you.

In things like this I've always tried
To look upon the Brighter Side;
And when I see the Prince, I say
"The Crown's worth something anyway."

        I strolled last eve across the lonely down;
    One solitary picture struck my eye:
    A distant ploughboy stood against the sky -
        How far he seemed above the noisy town!

        Upon the bosom of a cloud the sod
    Laid its bruised cheek as he moved slowly by,
    And, watching him, I asked myself if I
        In very truth stood half as near to God.